//------------------------------// // Freak takes the Field // Story: He's a Vampire // by Gormless Wheaton //------------------------------// The screaming only lasted a few seconds now, as I was too overwhelmed to stomach it. One firm shout of "Shut the fuck up!" was enough to silence the whole cave. The sun was setting now, and I rested on my elbow against the edge of the cave mouth. By my estimation of how shadows of shrubs nearby stretched, the cave pointed south to a wide valley hemmed in on all sides by forest. Down in the valley, I could spy four villages spread around a large stone fortress sitting centrally between them on a tall hill. A silvery river snaked away from where our cave sat, weaving through the valley and into the forest. The sight of it gave me goosebumps. "Running water; I think that's a thing to worry about," I thought. Tearing my sight from the river, I could see the rapidly shrinking figure of the bulldog sprinting away. Yeah, he lived. No, I didn't care. Even if he ran back and got his boss, who he was screaming for on the way out, I wasn't worried. Getting shot with a crossbow didn't do anything, so what could they possibly do? And that was the million-dollar question: What could they do? What could actually hurt me? I'm a vampire now. And that was compounding my stress. The only thing that was keeping me from panicking was the quiet, rhythmic sound of beating hearts. I'm not sure when it started, but once I'd silenced the cave and sat glaring outside, I suddenly noticed if I focused, I could hear the hearts of everyone here. As strange as it was, it was therapeutic in a way that let me strain my brain to remember anything from last night. So far, I'd turned up very little. Sure, I could recall general garbage, like Dracula, my childhood, how the human body worked, and plenty of other stuff, but some of it was patchy, like trying to recall a dream after a hard sleep. I remembered I am Peter Harlow, 28 years old, and work in Human Resources for Butler and Sons, a midwestern American office supplies company. I remembered what I was supposed to be doing: I was on my way to a party, and this outfit was necessary for attendance. But I can't remember why. I remembered Mom had asked me to visit her and my brother Will after the party to talk about their health. But I don't remember if they were sick. I remembered Martin from work, a name that made me grit my teeth. I saw him last night, and he did something that pissed me off. The memory of Martin caused my stomach to burn, and touching my free hand to it, I remembered getting hurt. Badly. "Fuck," I huffed quietly, watching the twilight outside steadily increase. "Quilt, can you hear me?" Oh, yeah. I remembered I'm in a cave with a crowd of talking animal people. One of whom was now trying to wake her friend that I mauled upon waking up. I grimaced and turned my attention to the sheep, specifically Cozy. Sure enough, she was laying an inch from Quilt, who was still in a daze and murmuring, while the others looked on in despair. Her heartbeat was almost inaudible. "How's she doing?" I asked. The group snapped to attention and stared at me in horror. The one with the vest and tie, adjusted said bowtie and coughed before grimacing. "Her, uh, wound isn't bleeding, but she's lost a lot of blood," he finally muttered. "If we can't perform a transfusion by morning, then.. I don't believe she'll survive." He and his group averted their eyes from me as he said this. Most of his group, anyway. "That's your fault," Cozy snapped, to the shock of her fellows. I looked her in the eyes and, for the first time, saw no fear, only anger. "Yeah, it is," I sighed, finally breaking our stareoff. "I can't even tell you why I did it. I wouldn't normally-" "Who cares why you did it?!" She stomped forward with angry tears bubbling up. "And who cares how you usually act?! She's dying!" "Cozy, let's be rational, and not upset the nice cave monster!" The bowtied sheep injected with a desperate smile. Cozy's stare only hardened. "Sure, he might've- Anyway, it's not his fault we don't have the supplies to treat her." Her gaze fell upon him, still angry and teary, causing him to falter. She held her stare for a moment before sniffling. "I know," she whimpered. "First, Diamond Dogs ransack us and drive us out, then he shows up when we're just trying to find help." She circled in place a few times with her eyes clenched. "It's not fair!" She fell to the ground and covered her eyes as she wailed. "We never hurt anywooly! Quilt never did anything wrong! Why'd all this have to happen?!" Her fellows tried to comfort her to little avail. Bow-tie gave her a strained, heartbroken look before turning to me. I considered him and the scene somberly, as the cave now filled with the sound of a weeping sheep and night overtook the outside. Then one of the pugs sneezed. "S'cuse me." My attention snapped to him and his group, causing them to stiffen up. I slowly strode to their side of the cave. "Diamond Dogs?" I queried, standing before them. They slowly nodded, and I returned the gesture as Cozy wept. I reached out and firmly hefted the skinny one up to his feet. Even standing up straight, I was about a head taller than him, which supported the dreadful, looming aura I was trying to press upon him. I leaned over, nearly pressing my nose to his, and he fixed me with a look of terror before an uneasy smile split his lips. I couldn't take back what I'd done, but I could try to make up for it. "Explain." The moonlight put my soul at ease as we looked over the valley, practically washing away my concerns like I'd slept them all off and letting me think clearly. Vampire thing, probably. "It's the nearest one, right?" I asked Dr. Shawl, the bow-tied Sheep, pointing to the village in question. "Nearest?" He looked up at me and then back to the valley with his ears drawn back. "Can you see all of them?" "Yes. Answer the question." "Right! Yes, the nearest one is Ruffleton," he replied, pointing a hoof. I looked back to Twitch, the skinny dog. "One more thing," I started. "These little guys don't seem all that strong or sturdy. Why enslave four villages worth?" "Wool! Boss say we steal wool, make them cart, sell for gems!" "Oh! So that's what you were after," Shawl grumbled. Seeing my expression, he explained. "Our wool is magical; it grows back very fast. We trade in goods woven from it," he glared at Twitch. "Or at least we did." Once I'd expressed my intent to help the Sheep retake their home and to get Dr. Shawl what he needed to help Quilt, he'd grown more confident. Of course, when a seemingly immortal, super-strong monster says he's on your side, it's hard for common thugs and bandits to spook you. I was confident, too. Twitch explained how Diamond Dog culture worked. The biggest and strongest dog leads while the others do as ordered, but so long as you were strong, it didn't matter what you were. Some packs were led by Dragons or other monsters, which is how I learned fire-breathing Dragons exist here: none anywhere near this valley, thank god, but still a fun thought. A better thought was that I practically couldn't be hurt and was as strong as a gorilla. Rolling into town and choke-slamming the current boss, himself just a large Diamond Dog should be a cakewalk. From there, we'd bring a cart to pick up Shawl and the others and get Quilt to his house for treatment. "Get her ready for transport, doc," I said, handing him my cape to wrap her in. As he moved to do so, he looked back at me pensively but said nothing. The dogs and I began our trek to the village down the same path their fellows had fled. I could feel the dirt in parts was firmer, and the way the grass grew seemed to suggest an outline of a proper path, long overgrown. "Boss say long time ago, Rams and Ponies dig here, in mountain," Twitch explained. "After Ponies left, lots of gems still behind, like in Master's cave." "Master, huh?" I glanced back at him. He still wore a nervous grin. "Fine, but Rams and Ponies?" "I'm uncertain what is meant by 'Rams,' but the books suggest they were a separate tribe," one of the runts explained in a wheezing voice. "Cousins of the Sheep, I suspect. As for Ponies, they came from Equestria, some thirty miles east of our destination, beyond the forest. That central fortress was their construction," I stopped our march to look at him in surprise. "Some Diamond Dogs are capable of coherent speech, o' Dark Prince," he explained with a bow. I resumed our trip with a snort. "Fine, but tell me your name," I demanded. "And tell me where these Rams and Ponies scurried off to." "Graggle, terrible one," he said with another bow. "The Ponies and Rams came to some manner of conflict around fifty years ago, and ere its climax, the Rams had fled over the mountains where your cave rests. The Ponies returned to their homeland." "This why no one like you, Graggle," the other pug squeaked. "Too huge words." "The Master does not seem to mind, Flinch." "Indeed, I don't," I confirmed as we finally arrived at level ground. The path was now very well defined and merged onto what seemed to have been an old stone road. "Did the Ponies build these roads, too?" "I have only limited details, I'm afraid, but all other evidence would suggest it is so," he gestured across the entire valley as we made our way. "The Rams planned to transform Woollachia into a great principality and made pacts with the Pony Princess to achieve that end." I stopped dead. This could not be. It was inconceivable. I slowly turned to my followers and fixed Graggle with wide eyes and a wide frown. "Woollachia?" I asked quietly and evenly. The dogs were unsettled and looked at each other before nudging Graggle. "Er, yes, that's right," he said after a moment. "From the mountains behind us to the forest is Woollachia, on the fringes of Trotsylvania, an Equestrian province." My expression cracked, and I now wore a pursed smile as I slowly scanned the horizon breathlessly. "Trotsylvania," I fell to my hands and knees before lowering my head to touch the ground and cradling myself. "Master?" My eyes screwed shut, and I let out a single, labored, wheezing breath. When my lungs had emptied, I felt a paw pat me on the back a few times. Looking up, I saw the concerned eyes of Graggle looking into my own. I smiled. "Master, are you well?" "Just fine, how are you?" I replied, rolling onto my side. He looked all about and to his fellows, who looked uncomfortable. "Ah, well, fine, but the village is near, sir," Graggle said, pointing. "Oh good," I said, snapping back to my feet. "Let's finish up and take a five-minute break, okay?" I resumed my walk before they could answer. I couldn't tell if I loved or hated this discovery, but I planned to make it the boss dog's problem. The remainder of the trip was in silence, and we quickly crossed into the village, made up of cozy single-story cottage-like houses or shops, built in rings away from a large towering central building, and now walked upon a well-tended gravel road that crisscrossed between the housing blocks. In the middle of town, we could see a large gathering of Diamond Dogs formed in a semi-circle around a hulking, unarmored specimen who seemed to be giving them orders. At his feet was the body of the bulldog, with a broad axe planted in his back. "He very angry," Twitch muttered. "No shit," I replied as we carried on down the street, and I saw most of the house's doors were wide open. "Boss rounded up all the Sheep and is holding them in the town hall," Graggle explained, pointing to the central structure. "We have only just taken this village this past evening, so we've yet to enact his grander scheme for the territory." One of the dogs in the crowd pointed to us, and I recognized him as one of the spear dogs who ran earlier. His arm was in a sling, and he was bleeding from the nose. I couldn't see any of the others. "Ah, Maw is still alive," Graggle pointed out. "He must have kept his head down until the others were dead." "He lucky like that," Twitch said. "Not lucky like us, we have Master!" The last one asserted. The leader was approaching us, followed by his crowd, so we waited. To our side sat a decent-sized wooden cart toppled over, which gave me chills for some reason. "Very true, Scraps," Graggle affirmed before cowering behind me. "You three!" The dog-boss roared, still stomping his way towards us. "You betray me?" "We do as is the way of our kind!" Graggle called back from the safety of my shadow. "Our new Master is far stronger than you!" "Maw say that," he now stood a short distance from us and began pacing to and fro. "I not believe it! Maw a coward! Sorry excuse for sister-son! Look at this thing, so small!" "Maybe if you didn't kill everyone who gave you bad news, you'd have a clearer picture of the danger you're in," I quipped. His pacing ceased, and he fixed me with a hard stare. "Coward's words no good! Better they stay quiet, forever if they no shut up!" He snarled, baring his fangs. I smiled. "Maw a coward, Scrimp a coward, Gaz a coward! But you three!" He jabbed a damning claw at the dogs near me. "You three worse. Traitors worst kind of cowards! 'Kill foe once, kill traitor twice!' Grandhound say that! I kill strange thing, I eat him, then I-" Whatever his plans were, we would never know. I gripped the cart at my side and hucked it at him. It sailed through the air and crashed into the boss, sending him and the cart tumbling. As Boss's crowd looked on in shock, I laughed while Graggle and company cheered. "Alright, here's the deal," I stepped forward with a sweep of my arm. "This guy's done! I'm in charge now. For starters-" and now it was my turn to be cut off. Boss stood up with a roar, only looking scuffed despite his lack of armor, and raised the cart above his head. And he was pissed. He slammed the cart down, smashing it apart. "WHO done?! WHO in charge?!" He pulled a wheel and a board from the debris and flung the former at me. I held my arms out to my side, intending to make a show of enduring the attack. Then the wheel slammed into my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs, and me off my feet. I felt my ribs cave before I dropped to the earth, coughing and choking. I called shenanigans. As I tried to figure out what just happened, while coping with my broken chest with all the screaming pain and foam in my throat that brought, I looked up to see Boss leap upon me, hefting his wooden board up. My mind raced for an explanation, and suddenly, with his weapon framed in the moonlight, something clicked. "Oh fuck," I gurgled, remembering another vampire fun fact: wooden stakes to the heart are fatal. I guess in my particular case, the wood itself was the problem. I didn't have a chance to argue how stupid that was, as Boss began beating my face in. "Master!" Graggle cried, having scurried out from under me before I fell. Boss ripped his club across my jaw, then the stomach, then the ribs, then the face again. I tried to guard myself but was too disoriented from pain to defend myself. I could hear the crowd cheering as my vision went cloudy. Boss knelt and held me by the collar, and brought his club hard on top of my skull with a wet, rattling crunch I felt more than heard. I think I blacked out immediately after that, because the next thing I knew, he was standing with his back to me, addressing his crowd. "Who is strongest? Who is leader?" He called out to their cheers. He repeated this while I noticed a change occurring. The pain was gone, and I could feel everything he broke or bruised righting itself. My vision cleared, and my jaw set itself into a tight snarl. My limbs filled with strength again, and I manually rose to my feet. I wasn't in pain; I was furious and hungry. I might hate myself for this later, but the mix of emotions and physical need overwhelmed my ability to care. The crowd went silent, and Boss whipped around to meet my gaze. "Nuh uh, I smash you head in." I snapped forward and gripped his throat. He tried to swing his board at me, but my free hand caught his arm. A gentle squeeze crushed his wrist, and using my grip as leverage, I sank my teeth into his shoulder. Deliberately sucking blood was an experience. That comfy feeling returned, but now that I was making the coherent effort, I could feel some deep animal part of me roaring with pride as his lifeblood filled my mouth and flowed into my stomach. The taste. It was sweet, but not like sugar. Like cold water on a hot day, when you hadn't had a drop of water in hours. Or days. Weeks. I felt it fill my belly, but despite the quenching and sating sensation it brought, I never felt full. I felt like I could drink as much as I wanted and never hit capacity. So that's exactly what I did. I didn't stop. I kept sucking until nothing came out, and when I finally pulled my teeth free, his body was shriveled and motionless. Focusing my ears, I could tell his heart had stopped. The whole town was silent, in fact. The crowd of dogs was watching on in horror. My honest intention was just to scare the guy off or just hurt him, but the rush of living blood and the moonlight had me wired enough not to care anymore. I took Boss in both hands and hurled him to the ground before wiping my mouth. "Alright, let's try again in a way you bozos can digest," I said, stepping over the corpse. "WHO is strongest? WHO is Leader?" I held one hand behind an ear, Hogan style, and gave them an expectant leer. Their attention shifted from each other to the Boss to me, then to Graggle, who'd hopped forward. "The MASTER, you boneheads!" He declared with a theatric gesture toward me. "The Master!" The crowd cheered desperately. "Goddamn right."